


Hush Little Baby Don't Say a Word (big brother's gonna fuck you real good)

by SammysGirl666



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dark Dean Winchester, Drugged Sex, M/M, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Sam is 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 22:02:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5887006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SammysGirl666/pseuds/SammysGirl666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam sleeps, and Dean reaps his reward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hush Little Baby Don't Say a Word (big brother's gonna fuck you real good)

Getting his hands on Rohypnol was the hard part. He’s sixteen and looks even younger so finding someone stupid enough to sell to him is definitely the biggest obstacle.

Once he has it, though, the rest is easy.

Dean knows it’s wrong. At least, he tells himself that so he never has to deal with the reality of what he’s doing. Sam is just soft and beautiful and sweet and so perfectly young and innocent. It’s a miracle that Dean’s able to keep his hands to himself during the day. It’s even more astounding that he does the perfect job of being a big brother when dad’s around. He never touches Sam or gives either of them any reason to believe that he’s got any dark secrets.

But when Dad’s away, Dean indulges himself. He doesn’t take Sam in broad daylight. He’s not sadist and he doesn’t want to scar Sam in irreparable ways. He just wants to satisfy this aching pull in his belly, this clawing need that makes him dizzy. And there’s just no other way. He can’t resist Sam forever and he won’t hurt him so, really, this is just a compromise.

He slips two crushed Rohypnol into Sam’s glass of water and his brother is out within minutes. Dean waits, mostly out of paranoia and then crawls atop Sam. He rolls the boy onto his stomach and strips him of his clothes.

The best part is that Sam is twelve, just going through puberty and turned on at the slightest touch. So when Sam semi-wakes up under the influence of the drug, he thinks he’s having a wet dream. And it just makes Dean’s job that much easier.

He works Sam open on two fingers, whispering filthy things into his brother’s ear.

“Such a slut for it, aren’t you, Sammy?” He asks. “Open so good for me, little brother. Wanna impale you on my cock, wanna hear you beg.”

And Sam is still in dreamland so he does. It’s slurred and slow and probably not nearly as sweet as it would sound if the boy was sober. But every jumbled word goes straight to Dean’s cock.

“Please,” Sam whispers, and it’s almost intelligible. “Want it.”

“Yeah you do,” Dean says. He pulls his fingers out and positions his cock at Sam’s entrance. Some sick thrill goes through Dean because Sam still thinks himself a virgin. He doesn’t know how wrong he is, how many times Dean has done this.

He should feel guilty, but he doesn’t. Just triumphant. And he deserves it, he thinks. He raised Sam, took care of him, fed him, and sacrificed his childhood for him. This is simply Sam paying his dues. And he does such a lovely job of it.

When he’s inside Sam, he stills, waiting to see if Sam will wake up though he know the boy won’t. Sam’s head lolls to one side and he whispers out more jumbled, slurred nonsense. Dean smirks and begins to move his hips. Sam moans quietly, a tired broken moan.

“So good,” he slurs and Dean grins.

“Damn right, I’m good,” Dean growls, speeding up his thrusts. “And you’re so tight for me Sammy, so fucking hot on my cock. Wanna come in you, fill you up, make you all dirty inside.

The words are empty. This would never work if Dean left evidence behind so he always wears a condom. But he likes the words anyway, likes the image and it pushes him closer to the edge. He fucks into Sam harder and faster and Sam’s moans get a little more consistent, though they’re followed by lulls of sleeping silence.

It doesn’t take long, of course. It can’t when Sam’s so hot and silky and perfect. He comes, filling the condom and imagining that he’s coating Sam’s insides. He grunts, rides it out and pulls out. Sam whines lowly in frustration.

“Please,” He slurs again. And Dean wonders, vaguely, who Sam is dreaming about. But the thought makes him angry so he pushes it away and turns Sam onto his bag.

He pulls on Sam’s cock, still thin and boyish. Scooting down the bed, he comes face to face with it and then wraps his mouth around it. Sam moans again and Dean only has to hollow out his cheeks once before Sam is coming. Dean pulls off and resists the urge to swallow. This doesn’t work if Sam wakes up without any trace of come on him.

When the last drops are worked from the boy, Dean stands up. He carefully dresses Sam again and pulls the covers over his brother’s body. He presses kiss to Sam’s sweaty forehead and then climbs into his own bed. It doesn’t take him long to fall asleep as he represses another layer of guilt.

When he wakes up in the morning, Sam is looking under the covers at himself, blushing.

“Have a good dream last night, Sammy?” Dean asks. Sam squeaks and pulls the covers to his neck, the blush on his face getting worse.

“Shut up,” he says voice cracking. Then he flies out the bed and runs to the bathroom. Dean watches him go, smirking.

He knows it’s wrong, really he does. He isn’t stupid. Crazy, maybe, but not stupid. But he pockets the rest of Rohypnol and thinks about the next time he’ll be able to give Sammy another wet dream.

**Author's Note:**

> More writing at veganweecest.tumblr.com


End file.
